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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24170065">and peace attend thee</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/MickyRC/pseuds/MickyRC'>MickyRC</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman &amp; Terry Pratchett</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Aziraphale and Crowley are Adam Young's Parents (Good Omens), Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Ineffable Husbands (Good Omens), M/M, Nightmares, Sort Of, Well - Freeform</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-05-13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-05-13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-02 21:55:26</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,584</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24170065</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/MickyRC/pseuds/MickyRC</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <em>Crowley woke up screaming.  But before he was even fully conscious there were arms around him, holding him tight against a warm chest, and a soft voice in his ear.  “I’ve got you.  I’ve got you.”</em>
</p><p>Everybody gets nightmares, even demons, even angels, even Anti-Christs.  It's not so bad, though, when there's somebody there afterward.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Aziraphale &amp; Crowley &amp; Adam Young (Good Omens), Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>151</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>and peace attend thee</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>So I started out writing a one shot to destress from finals, and ended up with a new AU.  Absolutely no one is shocked by this.</p><p>I may write more of this at a later date, but for now, all you really need to know is the AU is just an excuse to have Crowley and Aziraphale raising Adam in the bookshop.  There was no baby swap in this universe; Hell decided the best way to make sure the Anti-Christ turned out demonic enough was to have him raised by a demon, so they just handed him over to Crowley when he was born.  Little do they know Crowley's been married to a certain angel since the end of the 19th century, so that whole demonic influence idea's gonna get a bit weirder than expected.</p><p>Also!  Heads up!  I'm going to be changing my AO3 username and tumblr url in the near future.  There's a lot of steps to make sure that goes smoothly, but I plan to have it done by this Sunday (which is also when I'm going to be next updating the Princess Bride fusion :0)  So don't be too confused when that happens!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Crowley woke up screaming.  But before he was even fully conscious there were arms around him, holding him tight against a warm chest, and a soft voice in his ear.  “I’ve got you.  I’ve got you.”  Crowley collapsed against Aziraphale and let out a whimper.  A button of Aziraphale’s pajama top was pressing into his cheek.  He left it there.  The dull ache helped pull him back, helped to keep him from falling right back into the nightmare he’d escaped from.  Maybe if he was lucky the thin metal would make an imprint on his skin that would still be there in the morning.  That would be nice, to have a constant little reminder throughout the day of being held like this.  He still needed reminding, sometimes, that this was real.  That he could crash into Aziraphale’s arms whenever he needed and not ever worry about being turned away.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Aziraphale shifted his arms to cradle him better, and Crowley let himself be moved.  Aziraphale was still murmuring to him, still chanting “I’ve got you, I’m here, I’ve got you,” because he needed to hear it, too.  Crowley knew he scared his husband when he got like this, but they both appreciated the comfort afterward more than they would ever put to voice.  It went beyond just the nightmares, when they did this.  In their bed, in the middle of the night, all the centuries of untended hurt were fair play to soothe each other through.  They made the best of every chance they got.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Feeling his heart rate calming down and his breathing evening out, Crowley released one last shudder before curling as close as he could into Aziraphale’s arms.  He wiggled a hand around to dip his fingers into the pocket of his pajama top, clinging just a little bit, letting Aziraphale know he was okay.  Aziraphale let out a breath, and pressed a fierce kiss to his forehead.  “I’ve got you,” he whispered one more time.  “I love you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I love you,” Crowley repeated to him, voice a bit hoarse.  He dug his nose into the v of Aziraphale’s shirt, breathing in the tea and soap and flannel scent of his skin.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He could feel when Aziraphale let the tension drop out of his shoulders.  “You’re okay,” he said quietly.  “It was just a dream.  You’re fine, just a dream.”  It wasn’t quite true, and they both knew it, but there was no point pushing it.  Even if they did this for centuries, Crowley didn’t think Aziraphale would ever stop telling himself Crowley’s nightmares had never been real.  He needed it.  He needed to know Crowley was there and whole and alright, needed to know that all the times Azirapahle </span>
  <em>
    <span>hadn’t</span>
  </em>
  <span> been there, to hold Crowley close and dry his tears, all the times he </span>
  <em>
    <span>couldn't </span>
  </em>
  <span>be there, hadn’t ruined them.  And it didn’t hurt for Crowley to hear, either.  To know that his husband would go back in an instant if he were given the chance, would hold him after the Flood, would find him alone in his car in Soho, would pull him out of the sulfur and into his arms to keep him close and keep him safe.  He couldn’t undo the pain Crowley had already been through, and he couldn’t make up for all the times he hadn’t been there.  But he could do differently now.  And he did.  Crowley snuggled his face into Aziraphale’s chest and melted into the arms wrapped tight around his back.  He was okay.  </span>
  <em>
    <span>They</span>
  </em>
  <span> were okay, they were going to be fine.  As long as they could always wake up with each other right there, they would be able to get through any nightmare the universe could throw at them.</span>
</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>Aziraphale’s eyes flew open, his heart jumping against ribs as sharp and jagged as a knife.  His chest clenched up.  He couldn’t breathe without gasping, so he didn’t.  He lay there, staring blindly at the ceiling, still as death until his heart slowed enough that he didn’t feel like the bed was shaking with every beat.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When he could move without going dizzy with panic, he turned his head.  Crowley was right there, sprawled out on the other side of the bed like he’d been dropped there.  Slowly, carefully, Aziraphale shifted across the sheets.  Still holding his breath, he laid his head on Crowley’s chest.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Ba-dum.  Ba-dum.  Ba-dum.</span>
  </em>
  <span>  Steady.  Slow with sleep, gentle, but constant and strong and </span>
  <em>
    <span>there,</span>
  </em>
  <span> and Aziraphale felt the iron bar twisted in his stomach unknot a little.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He didn’t realize he’d started sobbing quietly in relief until a long arm wrapped around his shoulders and a soft hand brushed into his hair.  “Hey, angel.  You’re okay,” Crowley murmured, his voice still heavy and sleep-drowsy.  Aziraphale closed his eyes and tried to let himself drown in the hum of sound and life in Crowley’s chest.  “We’re alright.  ‘M right here.  Was just a nightmare, we’re okay.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It took a while before Aziraphale stopped shaking.  Crowley held him through it, rubbing easy circles on his back and carding softly through his hair and soothing him with quiet promises.  Aziraphale just listened, and tried to get his heartbeat to slow down enough so it could match up with Crowley’s in his ear.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Angel?” Crowley asked once Aziraphale’s hold on him had become a bit less of a desperate cling.  “How’re you doing?”  Aziraphale didn’t respond.  He didn’t want to look up; he’d have to lift his head to do that, and he’d lose Crowley’s heartbeat and the hum of his voice against his cheek.  But Crowley stopped petting his hair and tucked soft fingers under his chin.  “Aziraphale,” he murmured as he gently nudged him to meet his eyes.  They were so warm and gold, even in the darkness of the bedroom, and they only glowed brighter when Crowley smiled at him.  “C’mere,” the demon said, and Aziraphale let himself be hauled gently up the bed so they were sharing the same pillow.  Crowley kissed him when he got there, firm and slow, so that Aziraphale had no choice but to feel the life and the love in his husband’s lips.  He gasped, and Crowley pulled away, just to be yanked back in so Aziraphale could press their foreheads together.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re here,” he gasped into the space between their noses.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m here,” Crowley reassured him, and brushed away the tears on his cheeks.  He didn't need them anymore.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Aziraphale closed his eyes and just breathed.  They were so close he could feel each of Crowley’s breaths against his own mouth, and he leaned into it, breathing in their shared air and basking in their bed’s warmth.  He slid one hand up, pressed between them, resting over Crowley’s heart so he could feel it beating through the demon’s chest.  Long fingers wrapped around his own, and Aziraphale sunk back into the pillow with his husband’s pulse thumping soft and steady through his hand.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When Aziraphale’s breathing had slowed into a light rhythm and his face had dropped into an easy stillness, Crowley let go of his hand.  Carefully, so not to wake his husband again, he shifted him onto his back, the way he knew he slept best, and then smoothly climbed on top of him, laying himself out so that every part of him was touching Aziraphale and any little twitch or hitch of breath would wake him up.  He pulled the blankets up to their chins, and settled in with his head on Aziraphale’s shoulder and his arm tucked between their chests.  About to fall back into sleep himself, he suddenly blinked and sat up again.  Reaching over, he took Aziraphale’s hand, and, lacing their fingers together, settled them both on Aziraphale’s chest.  If he woke, there would be no time for fear or panic to set in.  He’d just find Crowley, right there, sleepy but awake and ready to hold him again.  For as long as he needed.  As many times as he needed.  Crowley yawned, and nuzzled his cheek against Aziraphale’s pajama shirt.  He fell asleep with Aziraphale’s heartbeat in his ear.</span>
</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>They both woke up to a wet sniffling and a soft cry of “Crow?  Azi?”  Aziraphale rubbed the sleep out of his eyes as Crowley stretched over to turn on the lamp on the nightstand.  Adam was standing there next to the bed, his worn duck plushie clutched in his arms and tear tracks down his cheeks.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, my dear boy,” Aziraphale tutted softly, reaching down for him.  Adam immediately crowded himself into the angel’s arms, and already had his face buried in his shoulder when Aziraphale lifted him onto the bed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Did you have a nightmare?” Crowley asked, crowding close to rub gentle circles on Adam’s back.  The little boy nodded into Aziraphale’s shirt, and both of his guardians made sympathetic sounds and moved in to hold him closer.  “I’m sorry, kiddo,” Crowley murmured, keeping his hand steady on Adam’s back.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Aziraphale held the boy in his lap and combed through his curly hair soothingly.  “We’ve got you, darling,” he said.  “We’re right here.  We’ve got you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re alright,” Crowley whispered to him.  “Was just a dream, kiddo, you’re alright.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They let Adam cry into Aziraphale’s shirt until he was sticky and worn out.  Then Crowley gently wiped his face clean with a cool washcloth, and Aziraphale asked, in the calmest of voices, if Adam wanted to talk about it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The little boy shook his head fiercely, and both of his guardians cooed and nodded and told him it was alright until he had calmed down again.  He was exhausted, slumped in Aziraphale’s arms and already struggling to keep his eyes open, but he clutched at Crowley’s hand with surprising strength.  “Can I sleep with you tonight?” he asked, wide eyes already threatening tears again if he were turned away.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It took barely a moment to get him settled in under the covers between them.  His pillow appeared, even though no one had gotten up, but that sort of thing just happened sometimes in the Crowley-Fell household.  Tucked in snugly, with Duck pressed up against his cheek, Adam settled down without a fuss.  He hardly ever fussed, really; a good kid, that’s what his friends’ parents called him.  Aziraphale and Crowley could never help beaming when they heard that.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Crowley reached for the lamp again, but a small hand grabbed his sleeve before he could turn the light off.  “Can… can we keep something on?” Adam asked in a small voice.  Aziraphale leaned down and kissed his forehead, reassuring him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, kid,” Crowley said, snapping a little gold colored night light into the air at the foot of the bed.  It wasn’t bright, didn’t cast any real shadows, but it gave off just enough glow to show the walls and the furniture and the shape of the room.  Adam grinned sleepily and nodded, squirming into his pillow again and squeezing Duck closer.  Crowley turned off the lamp, and settled down next to him, watching Aziraphale stroke the little boy’s hair until his eyes were drooping and his breathing slowed down.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Crowley had nearly nodded off himself when a little voice whispered into the room.  “It was the voices again,” Adam said quietly.  There was a little tremor to his words that made Crowley want to pick him up and hold him forever, keep him far away from everything that scared him.  Adam scooched in closer to him, and Crowley reached out and planted a long kiss in his hair.  “They won’t stop whispering at me when I sleep,” Adam continued.  “I don’t like it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Shh, kiddo,” Crowley soothed.  “They can’t hurt you.  They’re just voices, I promise.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But they’re </span>
  <em>
    <span>scary.</span>
  </em>
  <span>  And they won’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>stop!”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, oh my dear.”  Aziraphale sat up a little so he could meet Adam’s eyes as the boy started to work himself up again.  “I’m so sorry, love,” he said, rubbing Adam’s shoulder while Crowley kept a hand resting gently in his hair.  “I know they’re scary.  I know it’s awful and frightening, but we are </span>
  <em>
    <span>always</span>
  </em>
  <span> here when it gets too much.  Always, darling.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Adam nodded, but his eyes were watery again, and when he tried to talk all that came out was a hiccup.  “Here, sweetheart,” Crowley cooed, and brushed his curly bangs off of his forehead.  “We’ll work on getting the voices to be quiet in the morning, yeah?  I might know how to make them stop, at least a little.”  Adam was looking up at him with wide eyes, but he seemed a few steps farther from crying again, so Crowley went on.  “I’ll help you figure out what we can try tomorrow, okay?  We’ll work something out.  But for now we’re all gonna get some sleep.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The voices don’t come when you’re with us, right?” Aziraphale jumped in.  Adam shook his head, and Aziraphale put on a bright smile.  “There, now.  There’s nothing to be afraid of tonight, my dear.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We’ll be right here.  Promise.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do you think you can fall asleep now?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Adam considered.  He shuffled Duck up towards his nose, reminding Crowley of the way he’d held the poor over-loved cuddly when he was a baby, with his face mashed into its side and his little chubby fingers pulling at its wing.  The toy was no longer half his size, and the fabric was starting to wear through in spots, but Adam still snuggled with it every night without fail.  “I think so,” the boy said slowly.  He looked up at them.  “You won’t leave?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Crowley smiled down at him.  “Not for anything.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Of course not,” Aziraphale added when Adam looked to him.  Finally satisfied, he wriggled himself better under the covers, and lay still as Aziraphale brushed at his hair and Crowley hummed softly to him.  Before long, his breathing had slowed to a steady rhythm, and his grip on Duck loosened just the slightest bit as he fell into sleep.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Crowley looked up, and met Aziraphale’s worried eyes across the bed.  This was starting to happen more often.  It wouldn’t be long before the real trial came, and Adam would have to reject the voices, reject his </span>
  <em>
    <span>power,</span>
  </em>
  <span> or burn the world down around their feet.  It didn’t seem possible, but in just a few years this little boy in his dinosaur pajamas with the juice stain down the left sleeve was going to make the decision of whether everything on Earth lived or died.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Aziraphale gave him a tired smile.  At least Adam wasn’t alone, Crowley thought.  At least he had them, as bad at this guardian thing as they might be, to make sure he knew the power of his choices, and hopefully to make sure he made the right one when the time came.  Adam snuffled in his sleep and rolled over, one little hand flopping onto Crowley’s pillow.  He couldn’t resist pressing a kiss to Adam’s palm before he settled down next to him and closed his eyes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They were gonna be okay.  There might be troubled waters ahead, and what they’d left behind hadn’t been easy, either, but tucked up in bed all together and safe, it was okay.  Adam kicked in his sleep and murmured something about ice cream, and Aziraphale materialized a book to read by the glow of the nightlight, and Crowley felt his heartbeat slow as he sunk into his pillow.  They were gonna be okay.  There was no nightmare in the universe that could best them when they had each other.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>come yell with me on tumblr <a href="https://one-with-the-floor.tumblr.com/">over here!</a></p></blockquote></div></div>
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